


relativity

by mixians



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Disabled Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 05:34:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1254814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixians/pseuds/mixians
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>learning to let go isn't easy. but it isn't impossible, either. written for thebaekfest @ lj</p>
            </blockquote>





	relativity

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to ang for putting up with me as i wrote this :3 i love you~

Baekhyun remembers how, when he was little, he’d told his mother how much he wanted to be a singer.  
  
“Of course you will be,” she’d said fondly, patting his head. “You’ll be the best singer in the world.”  
  
But that’s hardly what she’s saying now.  
  
“I know this has been very hard on you,” she says, tugging him along briskly as they leave the hospital, “but maybe it’s for the better. Now you won’t have to think about those silly dreams of yours—what respectable man grows up to become an idol, of all things? It’s not too late to start studying medicine, and with your grades I'm sure you could get into a respectable medical school, too! And I know some very successful doctors, so once you graduate of course you'll have a guaranteed position at one of the top hospitals in the country..."  
  
She talks the whole way home, too. Baekhyun tries his best to tune her out. That's not the direction he wants to go in—it never has been—but she doesn't see it. Baekhyun suspects she never will.  
  
His first day back home is... not so great. It feels like the time he lost his voice just in time for a family reunion and had to spend the whole evening writing his responses on a whiteboard, but this time it's permanent. Much of his extended family is there, which would usually mean a lively atmosphere, too, but today it's quiet. Everyone seems uncomfortable, unsure about how exactly to approach him.  
  
Someone asks how he's doing. Baekhyun gives him a tight smile and signs, _I'm okay._  
  
The relative, one of his uncles, tilts his head and tries to smile politely, and half of the room looks terribly confused. _Of course_ , he thinks. _Of course they don't understand it._  
  
His mother coughs and says, "He's doing well. He says he's doing well."  
  
The rest of the afternoon passes mostly in the same way, and Baekhyun tries his best to keep a smile on his face until they've all gone and he can go back to his room and rest. He's so tired.  
  
His mother isn’t quite done with him yet, though. “You’ll be going back to school next week. Try to finish this week’s work in time. The school made an exception for you, you know. You have to keep your grades up if you want to graduate. Don’t fall behind.”  
  
Baekhyun _really_ doesn’t want to think about this right now. He made up most of the work he missed while in the hospital, but college entrance exams are coming up, and just the thought of that is stressful enough. He nods and makes his way up the stairs, and he’s sure it doesn’t show on his face, but his mother puts a hand on his arm and sighs.  
  
“You’ll be okay,” she says, and it’s maybe the most sincere he’s ever heard her.  
  
Baekhyun gives her his best smile and signs, _I hope so._  
  


÷

  
  
  
Baekhyun's room no longer smells like his own. It's cold and dusty, and quieter than he remembers, even if nothing else really seems any different. His bed is neatly made, his desk is carefully organized, and his glass cabinet of old trophies from singing competitions is still next to it. And then he spots his mini karaoke machine sitting in the corner. It's usually in the living room, in the cabinet by the TV; it shouldn't be here, and Baekhyun crosses over to it, turns the cold metal microphone over in his hands. He's missed holding one of these, feeling the weight of it in his hands, and an awful, bitter lump rises up in his throat. Baekhyun can’t breathe, for a moment. Then he sets the machine in a corner of his closet and shuts the door, and tries to start finishing all the work he’s missed this week.  
  
It’s hard to focus on limits when he’s trying his hardest not to remember the way it felt on those nights when his friends would come and have parties at Baekhyun’s house when his parents were out, and they’d plugged the little karaoke machine in and Baekhyun sang his heart out, possibly drunk and holding onto his duet partner just to stay upright.  
  
Those are the best nights Baekhyun can remember having, even if the memories a bit hazy from all the alcohol and the amount of time that’s passed since then. The last one had been just a few weeks before the accident, hadn’t it? Baekhyun sort of wishes he’d savored it more, appreciated the way it felt when he sang, when he could _feel_ the music he made, all the way down to his bones.  
  
But those nights are over, right? Right. Baekhyun takes a deep breath, tries his best to focus on his calculus homework again.  
  
Limits. Right.  
  


÷

  
  
  
His first day back is a bit of a shock. It’s been quiet everywhere he’s been—in his house, there’s not a lot of talking anymore, with Baekhyun’s brother away at university and his parents making their best effort to use sign language not only with him, but each other as well—but here, it’s so loud. There’s chatter from all around him; people gossiping to his right, boys laughing loudly and shoving each other around to his left, and everyone passing by has something to share: last night’s escapades, tomorrow night’s plans, what their cat ate, anything. Baekhyun doesn’t remember it being so chaotic in the halls, but everything seems a bit different now, doesn’t it?  
  
There’s a lot of talk about him, too. Mostly when he raises his hand instead of saying “present” when the teachers call roll. Half the class is whispering about him, voices hushed like they don’t think he’ll hear them, but the sounds bounce off the walls and Baekhyun hears them all, clear as day. It stings, but no more than anything else he’s heard.  
  
But Jongdae’s there, even if he’s halfway across the room, and so is Chanyeol. They wave at him every now and then, when the teacher’s back is turned, and throw him grins and silly gestures, just like before. Class goes by fast like that, Baekhyun trying to keep the smile off his face as his friends try to cheer him up a bit with ridiculous, saucy winks and little pranks that they know will probably get them into trouble.  
  
And when Baekhyun sits down in the next to them at lunch, Jongdae claps him easily on the shoulder, and Chanyeol signs _hello! it’s nice to see you,_ movements a bit clumsy, but Baekhyun’s surprised and happy all the same.  
  
_I missed you,_ Jongdae signs, and Baekhyun grins.  
  
_I missed you, too._  
  
It’s not as hard to talk with his friends like he always used to, like this, not as hard as he expected it to be, even if neither of them knows much beyond _hello_ and _how are you_ and possibly the alphabet. He can’t hold his smile back today, and he smiles until his cheeks hurt, like he hasn’t in ages. Maybe, Baekhyun thinks, this won’t be so bad. Maybe they’ll all manage to get used to it, someday.  
  


÷

  
  
  
Baekhyun always passes the library on the way back from hagwon. He usually doesn’t bother stopping in unless he needs to, but it’s cold out tonight and he needs to find a new book to read anyways, so he hurries in and heads towards the back of the library, where most of the fantasy books are. He’s moving to reach over and pull one of his old favorites off a shelf when he bumps into something—someone. Baekhyun gives him an apologetic bow and pulls the book off the shelf, making to move away, but something about the man in front of him stops him. He’s staring at Baekhyun interestedly, curiously, and Baekhyun stares right back.  
  
After a few moments, the man lifts a hand. _Hi._  
  
A slow smile spreads across Baekhyun’s face and he signs, _Hi, I’m Baekhyun._  
  
_I’m Joonmyun. It’s nice to meet you._ Joonmyun grins, and for the first time in a while, Baekhyun feels _excited_.  
  
_Nice to meet you, too._  
  


÷

  
  
  
Baekhyun’s been gone a while, but for the most part it feels like hardly anything has changed; Chanyeol still constantly pesters him for help with his homework, Jongdae’s just as easygoing as always, and they still spend class time passing each other silly notes and messing around when the teacher isn’t looking, if a bit less now that they have to focus more on studying for the upcoming college entrance exams. It’s never as tense spending time with them as it is when he’s at home, though; they’re learning sign language for him, slowly and steadily, but they don’t treat him any differently, not like the others.  
  
They come over to Baekhyun’s house a few weeks after he comes back, when they’ve all got a little bit of free time between school and studying, and they spend the afternoon playing video games in the living room, all while eating anything they can find in the pantry. Chanyeol spills soda all down his shirt when Baekhyun elbows him in the side for accidentally killing them both yet _again_ , and Jongdae cackles. Baekhyun just rolls his eyes and heads to the kitchen to get something to mop up the mess; he’s trying to step around the numerous wrappers littering the floor and the belongings scattered around with them when he trips over something hard, falling face first onto the ground.  
  
“Are you okay?” Jongdae asks from above him, helping him standing back up, and Baekhyun nods. “What’d you trip over?”  
  
Jongdae shoves a jacket aside with his foot, and there on the ground is the little karaoke machine. It should be in the back of Baekhyun’s closet, forgotten forever so he doesn’t have to think about it ever again, but maybe his parents have been using it when he’s out. It makes sense; he’s sure they’re sick of the silence, too. Still, somehow an awful lump rises up in his throat and he swallows hard, leaning down and picking the machine back up. _I’ll just go put this away_ , he tells Chanyeol and Jongdae, who have gone quiet all of a sudden. Baekhyun gives them an easy smile, even though he knows they won’t be convinced by it, not after knowing him for so long, and heads back to put the karaoke machine back where it belongs. He hopes it stays there.  
  
Chanyeol and Jongdae are talking in hushed voices when he gets back. Baekhyun stops just around the corner when he hears Chanyeol say, “Are you sure there’s no way we can fix it? There has to be a way, there has to be.”  
  
“Baekhyun told us himself,” Jongdae sighs. “When the other car hit them, his larynx was crushed. He said the loudest he’ll ever be able to speak again is a whisper, and even then he’ll never be able to sing again.”  
  
“But they can fix that!” Chanyeol exclaims, and Jongdae quickly shushes him. He continues, voice quieter now. “Can’t they? If they can shave half of a person’s jaw off, can’t they get Baekhyun’s voice back, too?”  
  
Baekhyun steps around the corner then, and Jongdae and Chanyeol freeze where they stand. Chanyeol has the game controllers in one hand, and Jongdae’s picking the trash up off the ground.  
  
“Hey,” Chanyeol says, smiling a bit too widely, “we decided to watch a movie instead. That’s okay, right?”  
  
_Yeah,_ Baekhyun replies, shrugging, _that’s fine._ And it’s fine, too, that they were trying to discuss this behind his back. They just want to help, right? Even if there’s nothing anyone can do about it anymore. Baekhyun just wishes they wouldn’t have to worry.  
  


÷

  
  
  
Baekhyun spots him when he goes to the library the next Thursday to return the book he checked out last week. Joonmyun is sitting at a table off to the side of the history section, a textbook open in front of him as he works, and Baekhyun’s about to turn away, because it’d be rude to interrupt, but then Joonmyun looks up, meets his eye, and gives him a cheery wave.  
  
_Come over,_ Joonmyun gestures, and Baekhyun grins and makes his way to the table, taking a seat across from him. _It's nice to see you here again._  
  
_Maybe I'll come more often,_ Baekhyun tells him. _What are you working on?_  
  
_Just auditing homework. I’m an accounting major._ Joonmyun points at the words on the cover of his textbook, in case Baekhyun doesn’t already know them. (He doesn’t.)  
  
_And you like fantasy books?_ Baekhyun asks, raising an eyebrow.  
  
Joonmyun laughs. _Being an accounting major doesn’t mean I can’t like fantasy._  
  
_But now that I think about it,_ Baekhyun frowns, _you just don’t seem the type. You’re so… I don’t know. Practical._  
  
_Then maybe you should get to know me better,_ Joonmyun grins.  
  
And somehow, just like that, meeting Joonmyun at the library becomes something of a routine. Baekhyun goes there twice a week in the evenings, when his parents can’t pick him up after hagwon, and Joonmyun recommends him books every time. Just taking a break and reading for a while is a good break from all of the studying, and the silence of the library is less stifling, more comfortable than home.  
  
Joonmyun can’t hear. He was born that way, not because of an accident like Baekhyun, so he’s used to it. And much better at sign language than Baekhyun is; he’s taken to teaching him a new word every day, more difficult ones than the ones he usually needs for everyday use, but he always does end up using them somehow.  
  
_I used to sing,_ Baekhyun tells him once, out of the blue. They’re sitting somewhere in the maze of bookshelves, side by side. _I used to win all these competitions and sing day and night, until everyone else was sick of the sound of my voice. I wanted to be a singer, or an idol, or something like that. And I was thinking of auditioning for that big idol company—SM Entertainment, you know—when the accident happened. I think I just feel kind of dumb now, for even thinking I could make it in the first place._  
  
Joonmyun frowns. _You don’t know that. Maybe you would’ve made it. I don’t know what you sounded like, but if you won so many competitions, I’m sure you would’ve had a chance, wouldn’t you?_ He stares fixedly at a spot on Baekhyun’s sleeve as he gestures, looking perhaps a bit wistful. _When I was younger, I used to dream of being an idol, too. And I never had a chance, because what company would accept a deaf kid to train to be a singer? But I saw them on TV, and they seemed so perfect, so talented—they were everything I wanted to be, I guess. I try not to think about it anymore, though, even if it’s a dream I’ve never really managed to let go, one I’ll never be able to achieve. It’s silly, isn’t it? But I think we both need to move on, you know? My counselor always did say that there’s no use in dwelling on something you’ll never have. Even if part of you still believes you could have it someday._  
  
_But how do you forget the dream you’ve had all your life?_ Baekhyun asks him, sighing and leaning in a little more heavily.  
  
_Maybe_ , Joonmyun signs, and then pauses. _Maybe, you don’t have to forget it. Maybe, you just need to let it go._  
  
_And then what?_  
  
_And then,_ Joonmyun tells him with a smile, _you find a new dream._  
  


÷

  
  
  
“How come you’ve been going to the library so often lately?” Chanyeol asks a couple of weeks later. “We haven’t gotten together after hagwon in ages.”  
  
“Are you not telling us something?” Jongdae says, grinning mischievously. “Have you been _seeing someone_?”  
  
Baekhyun swats at Jongdae with one hand and rolls his eyes. _You’re an idiot. I just made a new friend, okay?_  
  
“A friend that isn’t us?” Jongdae mock-gasps. “I’m hurt.”  
  
“What’s his name?” Chanyeol asks.  
  
Baekhyun signs it, and then writes it out on a piece of paper for them. _Joonmyun._  
  
Chanyeol laughs a little. “Joonmyun. Sounds old-fashioned. What’s he like?”  
  
_Nice_ , Baekhyun tells him. _He understands. Gives good advice, I guess._  
  
“But you like him enough to keep going back,” Jongdae says. “Multiple times a week.”  
  
_Twice,_ Baekhyun corrects him. _Twice a week. He teaches me new words. It’s nice._  
  
“Nice,” says Jongdae, “or _nice_?”  
  
_Shut up_ , Baekhyun signs, trying (and failing miserably) to keep the smile off his face as he shoves Jongdae away from him. _I made a new friend. Why do you keep trying to make this sound like a romance? Does every new friend I make qualify to be a new candidate in my supposed quest for a partner?_  
  
Jongdae frowns, and his face turns serious for once. Slowly, he says, “Well, no. It’s just… Every time I’ve bumped into you when you’re on your way back from the library, you always look so _happy_. I don’t think I’ve seen you quite like that in a while.”  
  
Baekhyun freezes. That can’t be right. _You must be seeing things._  
  
“Or maybe you just like him more than us,” Jongdae teases.  
  
Chanyeol frowns. “You’d better not! How long has _he_ been your friend, huh?”  
  
_I barely know him and I like him ten times more than I’ll ever like either of you_ , Baekhyun grins. Chanyeol looks hurt. _It’s nothing, though. Really._  
  
Jongdae doesn’t look convinced.  
  
_It’s nothing,_ Baekhyun tells them again, but even the movements of his hands seem a little forced. Fake.  
  


÷

  
  
  
“You’re not ready yet,” his instructor says, handing Baekhyun his latest practice test with a frown. Baekhyun takes one look at his score and tries not to bury his head in his hands. This one’s even worse than the last—worse than every other practice test he’s taken, actually. It’s almost as if he’s only getting _worse_. “You were close before, but now… I think it would be advisable to stay here for a few more hours on the weekends so we can go over what you’re having trouble with and try and get you back on track, unless you can find a private tutor. You need it.”  
  
_I’ll speak with my parents about it,_ Baekhyun says quietly, and his instructor nods and gives one last look before she moves on.  
  
He can’t go to the library anymore, then. His parents haven’t been happy with it anyways; they’ll be happy to know that he’ll be spending more time at hagwon. And, well, Baekhyun doesn’t know Joonmyun all that well anyways. It won’t matter if he just stops coming—Joonmyun’ll just forget about him in a couple of months anyways, won’t he?  
  
(Somehow, that thought hurts a little more than Baekhyun’ll ever admit.)  
  
Joonmyun’s waiting for him when he walks in, grinning and waving him over to their usual table. _I have another book for you to read,_ he signs, and Baekhyun can’t help but smile back.  
  
_Another? I won’t be able to keep up with you at this rate,_ Baekhyun signs back, taking a seat at the table.  
  
Joonmyun hands the book to him. It’s thicker than the others Joonmyun’s given him before, maybe five hundred pages or so, and Joonmyun shrugs. _You read the others fast enough. I figured maybe you’d want something a little longer to read. And I really liked this one! I think it’s one of my new favorites._  
  
_Then I think I’ll like it,_ Baekhyun tells him, flipping over to the back. _I always do._  
  
Joonmyun just smiles. _So how’s school? College entrance exams are soon, aren’t they?_  
  
_Yeah, and I haven’t been doing too well on my practice tests lately,_ Baekhyun admits, and he hadn’t meant to, really, but. It just slipped out. _I might have to spend more time at hagwon in the evenings or try and find a tutor, but exams are coming up. Everyone’s already so busy._  
  
_I can help you if you want,_ Joonmyun offers. _You can study with me when you come here instead of just wasting time, right? I’ve been told I’m a good teacher._  
  
It’s too tempting an offer to refuse, and Baekhyun can’t deny that he’d been hoping for it, anyways. _I’d love that,_ he signs. _Same time, same place?_  
  
_I’ll make sure you do great,_ Joonmyun tells him with a nod. Baekhyun doesn’t doubt it.  
  


÷

  
  
  
Joonmyun’s not just a good teacher—he’s a _great_ one. Baekhyun shows up to his first tutoring session to find Joonmyun fully prepared, stacks of textbooks and review workbooks piled up on the table, a neat, organized lesson plan for the hour in his hands. The way he teaches is clear, concise, easy to understand, and it’s not like studying with Chanyeol and Jongdae, not at all—in one hour it feels like he’s learned more than he has at hagwon in the last week. And maybe Baekhyun gets a little distracted sometimes when Joonmyun’s explaining something, watching the way he seems so genuinely _excited_ about teaching, the way his face looks so animated when he isn’t even really speaking, until Joonmyun notices that Baekhyun isn’t watching his hands anymore and gives him a little shove.  
  
_What are you looking at?_ Joonmyun signs with a frown. _We’re studying. Is there something wrong with my face?_  
  
_Everything,_ Baekhyun tells him, and Joonmyun kicks him under the table. Baekhyun gives him a wounded look. _I was just kidding! Just kidding. I like your face, okay?_  
  
_Do you now,_ Joonmyun laughs, and he has such a nice laugh—and a nice voice, too, probably. Baekhyun wants to hear it, someday. _I’m flattered. But let’s get back to work._  
  
Physics, Baekhyun finds, is no longer as confusing as it used to be—somehow, Joonmyun makes it sound so simple. _We’ll go over projectile motion again some more tomorrow, and then we’ll move on to the chemistry topics you wanted to go over, okay? It’s all really simple once you’ve got it,_ Joonmyun tells him after their third session, smiling reassuringly as Baekhyun packs his things away, and what’s really confusing, Baekhyun thinks, isn’t physics anymore, it’s the way Joonmyun makes him so oddly _nervous_ sometimes and the way he makes Baekhyun’s breath catch in his throat when he leans in a little too close when he’s trying to show him something, and the way Baekhyun can’t seem to tear his eyes away from his every movement even when all Joonmyun is doing is reading or going to get a book or digging around in his backpack for another pencil.  
  
It’s all a bit like relativity though, he thinks as today’s hagwon session drags on and on. Studying here feels like forever, like he’s mistaken the hour hand for the minute one, but studying with Joonmyun never feels quite long enough. Jongdae must be getting to him, he thinks. Just a little.  
  


÷

  
  
  
_Have you ever tried writing?_ Joonmyun asks him one day as Baekhyun stuffs his binder into his bag, only half-watching. His backpack is always so full of textbooks these days, it’s hard to fit stuff in anymore.  
  
_Not really,_ he answers absentmindedly once he’s pulled the zipper back up. _I mean, we always did stuff like that in class, but I’ve never really thought about it. Why?_  
  
_You read a lot of fantasy books. I thought maybe, since you read so much, you might want to try writing something too,_ Joonmyun signs, and the way he looks at him is so earnest that Baekhyun stops to consider it, even if he’s really not all that interested.  
  
Baekhyun shrugs. _Maybe I’ll give it a try when I have some time. I don’t know if it’ll be my thing, though._  
  
_I really hope you do,_ Joonmyun tells him, smiling brightly. _You seem like someone who’d be good at that._  
  
And somehow, Baekhyun can’t forget those words, even after he’s gone home and showered and tucked himself into bed, when he’s staring up at the ceiling in the dark, hopelessly, endlessly awake. The gestures replay in his head like a movie, over and over again. _You seem like someone who’d be good at that._ Would he be? Could he be? Joonmyun does always tell him he’s good with words.  
  
It’s hard to stop remembering it, somehow. He really hasn’t thought about it much before—there’s not much room to think about things like that when your entire life revolves around singing and school and friends. When there’s nothing else you could ever imagine yourself doing. But maybe…  
  
It’s a couple of days before he thinks of it again. Today he’s at hagwon, staring blankly at the clock and watching the minutes pass by, and that’s when he remembers. _Have you ever tried writing?_ When he looks back down at the workbook in front of him, all he can think is that there’s a lot of blank space. A lot of space he can fill with words and stories and people, not the numbers and equations he still can’t get into his head. And he should be studying, he really, _really_ should, but he learns more effectively with Joonmyun anyways.  
  
He’s never really had a knack for writing, really, but maybe now isn’t too late to give it a shot—already an idea’s starting to form in his head, something about dragons and magicians and fire, and Baekhyun puts his pencil to paper and starts to write.  
  


÷

  
  
  
_I gave it a try,_ Baekhyun tells Joonmyun a couple of days later, when Joonmyun’s in the midst of explaining something, and Joonmyun stops his movements to frown at him.  
  
_You gave what a try? Stay focused._ Joonmyun turns back to the textbook, glancing through the next chapter of it, and looks back over at him.  
  
_Writing,_ Baekhyun grins. _I started writing something._  
  
Joonmyun beams, his annoyance at being interrupted almost melting away. _Really? I’m glad you took my advice! Do you think I could see it sometime?_  
  
_Maybe,_ Baekhyun signs. _I don’t know if it’s all that good yet, but it’s… fun._  
  
_That’s great,_ Joonmyun tells him. He looks almost as excited as Baekhyun feels sometimes, when he’s having so much fun writing that he can’t bring himself to stop. _I’m really glad you’ve found something else you enjoy._  
  
Baekhyun doesn’t tell Joonmyun just how much he’s enjoyed this—in the last two days, he’s filled the first hundred pages of his workbook with writing, messy and cramped to fit in the margins. He can hardly remember the last time he’d felt this excited about anything, the last time he was so absorbed in something he forgot to stop to eat or sleep or study, the last time he couldn’t get something like this off his mind. Every minute he spends in class or hagwon he’s thinking about the next scene to write, his characters, how he wants to write things—and maybe he’s just starting out, but somehow, Baekhyun can see himself doing this for a long, long time.  
  
Maybe it’s a little silly, he thinks as Joonmyun gets back to talking about chemistry again, but he likes it. This is good.  
  


÷

  
  
  
Baekhyun wakes up early the morning of the entrance exam, so nervous that he feels a little sick. Breakfast is hard to get down. His parents drive him to the test site in silence; Baekhyun can tell they’re almost as nervous as he is. Joonmyun sends him a good-luck text when he’s on the way. _I know you’ll do great!_ it reads, and Baekhyun grins even as he feels like he might throw up any minute now. This is what he’s been preparing for, this is what’ll determine his _future._  
  
It’s not as hard as he expects, but still much more difficult than any of the practice tests he’d taken with Joonmyun; Joonmyun had told him about as much, but halfway through the test he still feels incredibly unprepared. He almost panics for a moment when he can’t remember the answer to the next question, but he takes a couple of deep breaths, closes his eyes for a moment, and it comes back to him. _Stay calm,_ Joonmyun had told him, _try not to get too nervous._ Stay calm. Right.  
  
The room is deadly quiet, and every scratch of his pencil on paper sounds frighteningly loud. He checks his answers once, twice, three times. A girl towards the front faints when they’ve almost reached the end and Baekhyun’s partway through checking his test one last time. And when they finally call time, Baekhyun’s heart is pounding in his chest and suddenly he’s pretty sure he failed and he’ll never get into any university ever and he will be a disgrace, and. _Stay calm,_ he reminds himself as he leaves. _It’ll be okay._  
  
Joonmyun texts him a couple of hours later. _How’d it go?_  
  
_Well,_ he replies, even though he’s been too nervous to anything but sit and worry; he can’t even focus on writing anymore, mind drifting back to the exam every other minute.  
  
_I’ll bet you did great!_ Joonmyun texts back after a minute. Baekhyun smiles despite the suffocating anxiety climbing up his throat and squeezing tight, and he hopes, really, really hopes that Joonmyun is right.  
  


÷

  
  
  
Baekhyun invites Joonmyun over for dinner with his family a couple of weeks later—his mother had insisted, since Baekhyun’s been spending so much time with him lately, now that exams are over. Jongdae and Chanyeol, too, but by this point they’re such a regular presence in Baekhyun’s house that they don’t really need an invitation anymore.  
  
_What’s this?_ Joonmyun asks when they walk into his bedroom that afternoon, and Baekhyun glances up to see him looking in the direction of the shelf by his bed, the one with all of his old trophies on it.  
  
_My singing trophies,_ Baekhyun explains. _From when I used to compete._  
  
_Why do you keep them?_ Joonmyun frowns. _Don’t they ever make you sad? It seems… I don’t know—silly, maybe, to keep these by your bed if all they’ll ever do is remind you of what you can’t even do anymore._  
  
_I guess, but—_ Baekhyun starts, and then freezes, cuts himself off. Joonmyun’s right—so why’s he trying to argue? Joonmyun’s _right_.  
  
_You have to let go,_ Joonmyun tells him again. _And having these here isn’t going to help you do that._  
  
_You’re right,_ Baekhyun signs, taking a deep breath. _Maybe... maybe we should take them away. Maybe I can try and start over, pretend it never happened._  
  
_Don’t pretend it never happened,_ Joonmyun tells him, giving him a little nudge with his foot, _don’t try to forget. Forgetting isn’t the same as letting go._  
  
_Then what is letting go?_  
  
_It’s… freeing yourself, I guess,_ Joonmyun signs, movements slow, measured. _Not letting anything weigh you down anymore, no matter how much you still want to._  
  
_And putting everything away is the first step?_  
  
Joonmyun nods. _It doesn’t mean you’ll forget. It’s just—I don’t think keeping them here is good, you know? Don’t you ever look at them and feel a little sad about it? Don’t you ever look at them and remember what it was like?_  
  
_Yeah,_ Baekhyun signs, sighing, _yeah, I do. You’re right. I don’t want that for myself anymore._  
  
_Let’s get started, then,_ Joonmyun beams, and with one more glance back at the cabinet, Baekhyun grins back at him.  
  
_Let’s._  
  


÷

  
  
  
“Baekhyun!” someone calls, his voice so (inappropriately) loud and deep that it’s undeniably Chanyeol. People turn around to glare, but Chanyeol pays them no mind, instead bounding across the library to where Baekhyun sits with Joonmyun, Jongdae not far behind him. Baekhyun isn’t studying for anything anymore, now that he’s passed the college entrance exam with scores his parents deem “good enough,” but he and Joonmyun still come here most afternoons—Baekhyun writes, Joonmyun reads. It’s comfortable.  
  
_This is a library,_ Baekhyun signs, giving Chanyeol his dirtiest look. _Though I didn’t realize you even knew what a library was._  
  
“Don’t be rude, Baekhyun,” Jongdae says. “I did have to show him the way, though.”  
  
“I could’ve found it myself if I wanted to!” Chanyeol protests, kicking the backs of Jongdae’s shoes. Jongdae lets out a loud yelp. Baekhyun’s pretty sure they’ll all get kicked out any minute now. “Anyway, that’s not why we came. We wanted to tell you about something—it’s really important.” Chanyeol pauses and looks at Baekhyun earnestly, excitedly. “We found a way to get your voice back! I know the doctors said there was no cure, but we looked into it and there’s this technology…”  
  
It’s like the whole world’s gone silent, frozen in place. Chanyeol is still speaking, but Baekhyun can’t register any of the words coming out of his mouth. There’s a _cure_? All this time, there’s been a cure?  
  
And that’s when it comes back to him—that day at the hospital, not long after he’d woken up, when his mother had said stiffly, _There’s no cure. There’s no use dreaming anymore, Baekhyun,_ and he’d thought it was just that she’d been reluctant to say it, that she’d just been upset too, but now—now, what’s he supposed to think? Did she lie, knowing what it could mean for him? Did his parents really want him to be a doctor so badly?  
  
But maybe it doesn’t really matter anymore. Baekhyun’s let go, hasn’t he? Hasn’t this been what Joonmyun’s been helping him overcome for the last few months? Maybe he doesn’t need to be upset, maybe he doesn’t need to try to get his voice back. He knows it’ll never be the same anyways, that he’ll never be able to stand on a stage and sing his heart out the way he wants—so maybe words can make up for it, maybe instead of singing until his throat is raw and he’s gasping for breath as he feels the familiar rush of adrenaline through his veins, maybe he can write instead, tell the stories of people he’s never known, lives he’s never lived. His parents won’t be happy with it, but maybe this won’t be so bad.  
  
_I don’t know, Chanyeol,_ Baekhyun interrupts, and glances over at Joonmyun, who’s smiling like he knows exactly what Baekhyun’s been thinking all this time. _I don’t know if I need my voice back anymore. I don’t know if that’s what I want._  
  
“Why?” Chanyeol says, after a few moments of silence. For once, he seems almost speechless.  
  
Baekhyun reaches over, laces Joonmyun’s fingers together with his for a moment, smiling. _I think… I think I’ve found my new dream._  
  


÷

  
  
  
_Are you ready?_ Joonmyun signs when he steps into Baekhyun’s nearly-empty bedroom, one last box in his arms.  
  
_Almost,_ Baekhyun tells him, taking one last look around the room. It’s been stripped bare of everything he’s kept in here all these years, not a trace of Baekhyun left behind. He’s moving in with Joonmyun today; he lives pretty close to Yonsei, the university Baekhyun’s attending in the fall. Jongdae says it’s about time, anyways.  
  
There’s one thing, though, he notices as he’s about to leave, and he waves Joonmyun on with a frown. He’s pretty sure he’d packed every last thing into the boxes yesterday, but—maybe? He checks the cabinet by the TV, all four corners of his room, and finally the corner of his closet where that little karaoke machine used to sit, but it’s gone. Huh. Maybe his parents took it to their bedroom or something.  
  
Baekhyun knows Joonmyun’s coming before he’s even there and he just smiles as Joonmyun comes up behind him, props his chin on Baekhyun’s shoulder and puts his arms out in front to sign, _What have you been doing? The driver’s waiting._  
  
_Nothing,_ Baekhyun replies. _It was silly._  
  
_Are you sure?_ Joonmyun asks as they step outside. He looks adorably worried, but Baekhyun just smiles and shakes his head.  
  
_Yeah,_ Baekhyun tells him. _I’m over it._


End file.
